


Rupaul's Retirement Home

by Hobnob69



Category: Old People - Fandom, RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: 100???, My Auntie still isn't dead but idk how, Tw:old people and their weird smells, no quality of life, not that i wish her to die, plus she's a bit racist, too old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 21:42:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13820010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobnob69/pseuds/Hobnob69
Summary: Raja is sick of the retirement home. She's more likely to die from the horrible food than old age. Join her as she ponders upon her existence.





	Rupaul's Retirement Home

**Author's Note:**

> I took some time off to visit my great Aunty Dorris. She just turned 100 so she’s basically crumbling away like an oaty biscuit. Her 100th bday bash was mental she was off her tits on meds. Before that she was in a temporary nursing home, and to be frank it was proper dodgy. This fic is a homage to my experience around old people, and how I don’t really like them too much because they remind me of death.

The first thing you’ll notice about Rupaul’s retirement home is the smell. There’s no avoiding it. The second you walk in the stench of old moth balls and re-heated cottage pie makes your nose crinkle and your eyes water. It’s nothing if nostalgic of visiting your Nan’s house, but 100 times worse. As if a physical force were to greet you at the door.

The second thing you’ll notice is the horribly outdated decor. Floral wallpaper peeled by time, beige settees with ominous stains, and varnished tabletops plastered with finished Sudoku’s and the TV times. The room was neither here nor there. Too clean to host rats, too dirty to pass basic safety inspection.

Finally, you’ll notice the residents. Wrinkled, aching, and old. They litter the room. Some hunched over an outdated telly set, some sunk in armchairs with their eyes closed, possibly deep in thought, Possibly sleeping. Most likely the latter.

Overall most would find Rupaul’s retirement home to be a grim reminder of mortality. Of how our skin will wrinkle and crease as if to give up on itself. Of how our eyes will turn a milky white and sink into our skull. Of how our fingers will struggle to clasp at pens and keep still to endless frustration.

Raja exhaled slowly, the corners of her mouth dropping into a frown. For five years she’d been cooped up, destined to repeat the same routine over and over to the tick of an old grandfather clock gathering dust in the corner.

As far as retirement homes go, Rupaul’s was tolerable. The staff weren’t overly incompetent and the food was just about edible. But Raja was restless, and there wasn’t enough room in some stuffy little lounge on the coast of Yorkshire to stretch her legs.

She used to travel overseas, gliding across salt water with a smell in the air no Yankee candle could recreate. She used to go to places she couldn’t even pronounce, and eat foods that weren’t served in a tinfoil dish. She used to make friends, enemies and acquaintances on a daily basis.

But now, Raja was 80. Deemed too old by society to sail a boat, or bathe herself for that matter. All thanks to one silly fall she took 5 years ago. Maybe if her knee hadn’t popped, she’d be in Scotland sampling haggis, or Norway looking over a grassy creek between snowy mountains.

“Raja.”

Or maybe even grabbing a bite to eat in Liverpool, then catching the annual lights show.

“Raja…”

She was too old for abseiling but who knows, she could give hiking a go…

“RAJA!”

She snapped out of her daydreaming and rubbed her temple, turning her head to the source of the noise, slightly dazed.

“You just going to stand there with your eyes facing different directions?”

Sat beside her with a grin comprised of dentures was Charlie Hides, brandishing her familiar mess of grey hair in contrast to a red painted lip.

Raja promptly took a seat, sticking up her middle finger at Charlie mockingly.

“At least I don’t have Athletes foot. I could smell you from a mile away.”

Charlie chuckled, though it developed into a violent cough and she was forced to have a sip of water. The two had met after Charlie was thrown in by her family. They shared similar complaints with the home and bonded over their general hatred of coronation street that always seemed to permanently remain on the telly set.

“They have cream for athletes foot but you can’t cure delusion Raja Gemini.” She tutted, reaching over to grab a crossword off the table. Her hands were unsteady and held the paper a little too tight, causing it to crumple slightly. Raja decided to look away.

“Delusion? I was daydreaming bitch I’m too young to go crazy.” Raja said sinking her back into the settee, her bones creaking along with the worn springs.

Charlie smiled to herself, keeping her eyes on her crossword as she produced a black biro from behind her ear. “The fact you just called yourself young proves my poi-”

“Pill time ladies.”

Their banter was interrupted. Raja grimaced.  
“Come on up up.” The carer repeated, patting them both on the backs as if they were some variation of untrained pet.

Raja hated the pills they shoved into her body. They tasted like rust and made her loose any appetite she may of had. Sometimes if she was lucky she could stuff them in her pockets and flush them down the toilet, like she used to do with broccoli as a child.

She exhaled slowly, gripping her yellowed nails into the edge of the settee, ready to hoist her weight up and shuffle up to the poor intern passing out small paper cups of drugs. Before she could go any further Raja felt Charlie grab her wrist.

“Do you know where Tempest is? She’s late for her pills today.”

Raja looked stunned for a moment. She was about to respond but her words were abruptly interrupted by an impatient voice.

“Ladies. Pills. Now.”

The pair rolled their eyes collectively and got up as fast as they could, which was fairly slow. Making their way over to the counter Raja thought over Charlie’s question repeatedly.

The line shuffled gradually with the sound of slippers chafing against the carpet until it was Raja’s turn to drug herself up. Accepting the pills graciously she decided it really wasn’t worth kicking up a fuss about taking them.

Before she could neck down the paper cups contents one of the newer workers, Serena, approached Raja with a quizzical look. She was petite, with a head of blonde hair and an expression of confusion constantly plastered on her round face.

“Wait-wait Raja, you are friends with Miss Hides aren’t you?”

Raja rolled her eyes slightly and nodded, tempted to respond with a sarcastic ’unfortunately’ but deciding it wasn’t worth her voice.

“Yes, well, we’ve been noticing some traits of early stage dementia and i was wondering whether you could shed some light on how her memory is doing.”

Raja froze, pursing her lips. She looked over to Charlie who was absent mindedly chatting to Mrs Kasha Davis. Probably about the state of the economy and how Teresa May was drunk on power.

Dementia?

A second wave of realisation washed over Raja as she recalled when Charlie asked where a former resident, Tempest Dujour was. To put it frankly, Tempest had been dead for a week after passing from heart failure, yet Charlie seemed to have no recollection of this.

“Yes.”

“Yes? Care to elaborate?” Serena Cha Cha said impatiently, quirking a brow.

Raja didn’t want to elaborate. She didn’t want to put any more energy into thinking about it. She didn’t want to think about how the mind just does that sometimes. It forgets.

Suddenly Raja was in the mood for her pills.“Can i get back to you on that later? We’re holding up the line here.” Raja said stoically, turning on her heel to avoid futher confrontation.

“Actually now would be a good time to-”

Her back was turned to Serena dismissively. This could all wait. She necked back her pills and cast another sideways glance at Charlie. She was sat down now with a new crossword, her feet on the table facing towards a small radiator, warming up her toes through the nippy winter evening.

Despite Serena beckoning Raja back, she made her way over to Charlie and took a seat. She was attempting to grab the pen she’d dropped on the floor as she cursed under her breath. It was almost painful to watch.

“This bloody place the seats are too high up. I can barely bend over as it is.”

Normally Raja would agree and go off on one about how shitty the furniture is, but instead she offered a sympathetic smile.

“Could be worse.” Raja sniffed, leaning over to pick up the pen for Charlie. “Appreciate that we weren’t put in a place with no central heating.”  
Charlie took the pen from her hands gratefully, looking down to her unfinished crossword.

“Part of appreciating something is not acknowledging you have it. Think about having it and you aren’t enjoying it.”

Raja didn’t exactly know how to respond to that. She looked over to the TV set. Red Dwarf is on much to the joy of the residents. The theme tune gets turned up to allow the more hard of hearing residents to listen in.

Think about having it and you aren’t enjoying it.

“Oh, Raja?”

Her train of thought is broken as she looks to Charlie.

“When’s it time for our pills?”

Raja placed a hand on Charlie’s hand and squeezed tight. She hadn’t the heart to answer that. She simply shrugged.

“Defiance…”

“What?” Charlie said confused, biting the end of her chewed pen. She made a mental reminder to never borrow a pen off her.

“open resistance; bold disobedience.” Raja repeated, poking a bony finger at the crossword proudly. “Defiance.”

The other woman let out a noise of joy before scrawling down words illegible to anyone else. Raja took the time to peer out the window. It was pitch black outside with frost creeping around the corners of the window. In summer the view would be that of a lovely garden, brimming with tulips and hanging plant baskets.

Raja had a feeling it was to keep the residents happier. Having such a wonderful view was a reminder that there was a world outside the home, and it was still growing and moving.  
But she couldn’t see the garden. She could see the stained wall around it, and the flower patterned curtains that hadn’t been drawn in a long time, but no garden.

Raja wondered how many of her friends would stick around during the winter. Some would go back to see family, some would even give into age and pass on.

She leaned back in her chair and shut her eyes. Maybe she would think more, maybe she would go to sleep. It was yet to be decided.

Prehaps sleep.


End file.
